


Deliciously Down

by seimaisin



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-26
Updated: 2003-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Daniel, and a bubble bath. Sam's more comfortable here than she cares to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliciously Down

Bubble bath. She couldn't believe he had bubble bath.

Sam sank farther down into the tub and added another item to her mental list entitled "Things I Never Knew About Daniel Jackson Before I Started Having Sex With Him." Honestly, most of the items were unrepeatable in mixed company. It was rather strange to discover something new that didn't involve orgasms. She figured she'd learned everything non-sexual about him a long time ago.

But, no. He had bubble bath, scented "sea mist", whatever that was. Sam closed her eyes and pictured Daniel sitting in the tub, bubbles up to his chest, dozing off while the water still ran. Her head rolled back onto the edge of the tub, much the way she pictured his doing. She contemplated picturing him in the tub with her, but really, that was a bit silly, because the tub was barely big enough for her. As it was, her knees poked out of the water unless she cocked her legs at weird angles. She wasn't entirely sure how Daniel fit in there. And, if he couldn't, she was back to wondering why the hell he had bubble bath.

"Comfortable in there?"

Sam opened her eyes to see Daniel leaning on the door frame, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. She grinned. "Thanks for letting me steal your bathroom."

He shrugged. "It was just an excuse to get you naked."

"So, does that mean I can come over here and take baths every night until they fix my plumbing?"

"You know, you could always just stay here."

Sam caught sight of large blue puppy-dog eyes, and suddenly turned her gaze to the ceiling. Much safer there. Staying was a problem - a big one - mostly because no one really knew what they were doing when they were off base. (Okay, and on base, too, but that was just the one time, and Daniel's office door had been locked. No one ever questioned what they did, anyway - they figured it was all research. Uh-huh. He'd been researching the mole on the inside of her thigh.) What would happen if someone decided to stop by her house at night and wondered where she was? She didn't feel like making up fancy stories.

Why would she need to make up stories? Oh, the reasons were endless. The powers that be on base would frown upon a sexual relationship between coworkers. (Daniel’s civilian status wouldn’t help at all, at least, she didn’t think so.) She wasn’t entirely comfortable with dating a coworker again, anyway – her previous experiences had been ultimately degrading, leaving her feeling less like a powerful female officer and more like a dupe. There were people on base who might have really negative reactions to the whole thing – oh, okay, ‘person’, and that person’s name was ‘Jack O’Neill’. She wasn’t in the mood to explain herself to him, and, quite frankly, she wasn’t quite sure she could explain it to herself yet. Why Daniel? Jack would ask that, and she couldn’t put the answer into words. Daniel just … worked.

Daniel sighed, and Sam expected him to leave the bathroom. Instead, he sat down on the floor next to the tub, leaning against the wall and taking a long drink of his coffee. "Where are you and Jack off to tomorrow?"

"Um ... PX-758B, I think? A mining operation, we're inspecting, something like that." Sam dipped her hair back into the water. The bubble bath would probably make it all greasy, but it felt better than the hairspray sticking to her forehead. "What are you doing while we're gone?"

"Briefing for the new staff." He made a face. "Once again, I attempt to cram some cultural knowledge into the country's greatest military minds."

"Hey now ..."

"What?" He looked innocent, until a half smile played across his face. "I'm always reminded of a t-shirt I once saw, talking about the Army - 'travel to foreign countries, meet exotic new people, and kill them.'"

Sam rolled her eyes, and splashed water and bubbles at him. Her aim was true - he wiped bubbles off his face, then looked down at his t-shirt, the front of which was thoroughly soaked. Sam made a clucking noise with her tongue. "Oh, that's really too bad."

"Totally an accident, I know," he grumbled.

"Absolutely. Water gremlins." She leered at him. "I guess that means you'll have to take it off now."

He tilted his head at her, but she just shrugged and settled back into the tub. After a minute, he shook his head and peeled the shirt off. Sam admired the view. Pretty amazing, she thought, what a few years of training with Air Force officers had done for his body. But, yet, unless the two of them were alone, he still carried his body like the 98-pound weakling he probably was twenty years earlier; like the boy in school who was pushed into a locker at every given opportunity. Mostly, he was unaware of his own physical stature; he only moved like the man he was when she pointed out how much she desired him. Constant reinforcement - didn't that usually run the other way around in a male-female relationship?

She didn't mind giving him reinforcement, though. Not if it meant getting to watch him lean casually against the wall, shirtless, with the top button of his jeans undone. (It had been undone since he walked into the bathroom, just a careless thing ... he'd probably forgotten it the last time he was in the bathroom.) Nope. There was nothing wrong with that view. Nothing at all.

Sam sank back into the water, closing her eyes for just a moment. Her body was finally forgetting the stress she’d arrived with. Not unusual stress – not unusual for the SGC. Another mission, another band of Jaffa loyal to some Goa’uld system lord or another, another shoot-‘em-up fight en route to the Stargate. Another brand new SGC officer wounded – this time, a new Sargeant, just assigned to SG-14. As the ranking officer on the mission, she’d been entrusted with his safety. She’d failed. General Hammond had praised her during debriefing, for bringing the whole party back alive. That was something, she supposed, but if she’d been a little faster - a little better - Holman might not be laying in the infirmary with second-degree burns all the way up his right leg.

She’d avoided the Colonel on the way out, walking the long way through a different corridor when she heard his voice coming from the gym. Teal’c had passed her on her way out, but she answered only with a brief, monosyllabic ‘bye’. She’d made a beeline for Daniel’s place, for his bathtub and his comforting presence. He hadn’t asked her any questions yet.

She opened her eyes and stretched her arms out in front of her, causing Daniel to tilt his head at her. "You're not going to soak my jeans now, are you?"

"It's tempting."

Daniel held out his hand. "Why don't you just get out of there and let me dry you off?"

"I don't see a towel anywhere."

"Do we really need a towel?"

This was the part Sam loved the most, the part she experienced so rarely in her life. The look in his eyes, the feel of his skin against hers, slick and wet, as she slid down into his lap and wrapped her arms and legs around him. The taste of his mouth underneath hers, the vibration of his laugh against her skin as his hand slipped between her legs and came away with a layer of bubbles. Letting herself get lost. Letting go. The fact that letting go was safe with Daniel.

With their bodies entwined, their hands and mouths moved slowly over each other. No hurry – they'd moved past the frenzied mating, the fear each one of them had that the other would wake up and put a stop to this lovely physical blending. Now, the sex was for comfort, more than anything. (Okay, it was also for stress relief, and for fun, and for Daniel's sudden obsession with the curve of her neck. Among other physical regions.)

(For her part, Sam was obsessed with several different regions of his body, she had to admit. His hands were a big one. Large hands, with slender fingers, strong and delicate at the same time, with callouses that only a man who worked with his hands could have. They felt so good, no matter where he touched her. Then, there was the hollow between his neck and his chest; any time she touched her tongue just so to that place, his whole body twitched. Lovely twitching. Gave her such a thrill, every single damned time.)

She didn't need to surrender her power to surrender to Daniel. Maybe that was the ‘why’ of the relationship she’d been searching for.

The rhythm of their bodies carried them to the logical conclusion, after which, Sam crumpled against his chest, sated. Only one thought penetrated her fuzzy brain. “Ouch,” she muttered. “My knees hurt.”

“Your knees? My back.” He chuckled, and Sam buried her face farther into his neck as the movement of his chest rattled her still-sensitive nerve endings. “I think, maybe, we’re getting too old to do this on the floor.”

“Perish the thought.” She spoke into his skin, and felt smug when his body trembled underneath hers. She breathed deeply for a minute or two. Then, a question occurred to her. She lifted her head. “Hey, Daniel?”

“Hmm?”

He was stroking the small of her back, which made it hard to remember words. But, after a moment, she rubbed her nose against his and asked, “Why do you have bubble bath?”

Daniel looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “Not mine. It came with the apartment when I moved in, and I just never bothered to throw it away.”

“Ah. Just curious.”

“Do you want it?”

“Nah, I’ll just use it over here.” She arched her back, stretching out the kinks. “Come on, let’s get up, before one of us ends up crippled for life.”

Daniel chuckled again, but let her stand up before following suit. As he rearranged his jeans, she found his bathrobe on the back of the door and wrapped it around herself. “Do you have anything to eat?” she asked.

Daniel shrugged, which Sam knew meant “not really, no.” She frowned at him, before realizing that he’d forgotten to button the top button of his jeans again. Was it just a mental block, or did he know how crazy that drove her? She sighed loudly, reached over and buttoned it for him. He couldn’t quite hide his mischevious grin. Oh, yeah, he knew. When she was done, he tugged on the lapel of the robe. “The Chinese place down the street delivers,” he suggested.

“You’re buying.”

Later, after dinner and a couple of hours of television – some pop culture thing on VH1 that they both mocked mercilessly, but neither could find the energy to turn off – Sam found herself drifting off to sleep, curled up on the couch against Daniel’s chest. She knew she should move. It was getting late, and she needed to go home. The morning would come too soon, and with it, another mission through the Gate. She should go home, crawl into her own bed … her familiar bed. Alone. Because it would be less complicated.

“Sam?” She felt him nudge her side. “You awake?”

Yes. She needed to go home.

His arm tightened around her, and she snuggled closer.

Complicated was bad. But, the warmth she felt just then? Unbelievably, basically simple.

“Mmmm.” She looked up at him. “Let’s go to bed.”

Let complicated sort itself out in the morning.


End file.
